The opening sentence to a story (be it a short story all the way up to a novel) matters. It’s the first bullet fired in a war — you don’t have to kill the enemy leader with it, but you also oughta make it count. It’s the line that hooks the reader. The line that sets everything up. It’s the first thing the reader sees upon stepping into the world you’ve created.
So, it’s worth getting it right.
Let’s workshop your opening line.
Take the opening line to something you’re writing / have written and, if comfortable, share it below in the comments. Then, others will have at it — offering what will ideally be constructive criticism (why they like it, where they think it needs improvement). If you post a line, you should also offer commentary on someone else’s opening line, because Quid pro quo, Clarice.
(Now, this is an imperfect criticism because the opening line of course never actually stands alone; it exists in context with the rest of the opening page. Just the same, this should make an interesting challenge, don’t you think?)
Go forth and workshop, young wordy padawans.
Darci Speidel says:
Kasha’s trigger finger twitched.
March 30, 2015 — 11:01 AM
Remittance Girl says:
Looking at the list of these opening lines, I do think it might be helpful for people to maybe state the genre of their work, because in a way, genres are the set of expectations a reader brings to the book.
I like this. It’s short, and tight and active. It tells me something is about to happen, no messing around.
March 30, 2015 — 12:08 PM
Mir says:
Active verb, check. Immediate understanding of who I’m sharing brainspace with, check. Tension conveyed, check. Simple and does the job. I like it.
March 30, 2015 — 1:11 PM
Alan says:
Immediately tension building. I feel like this story would be rollicking. Or at least nail-bitingly suspenseful. I want to know what happens next. Great job!
March 30, 2015 — 2:23 PM
Alex says:
I really like this because it’s short and to the point. You immediately get a feel for the situation (dangerous and hostile, because of the whole twitching thing) and Kasha as a character (knows how to shoot a gun and is probably really good/experienced at it because their trigger-finger-twitch reflex is so ingrained).
March 30, 2015 — 5:14 PM
Darci Speidel says:
Thank you so much for the feedback everyone!
March 30, 2015 — 7:33 PM
Madam_W says:
“Lynn sat atop a hill, watching the dance of grey and white that formed the sea and the sky.”
March 30, 2015 — 11:06 AM
StarNinja says:
Very lovely description. Dancing is such wonderful metaphor for so much of nature’s beauty. Unless it’s a hurricane. In which case, she needs to get indoors and bolt the windows shut!
March 30, 2015 — 11:18 AM
Remittance Girl says:
I think this has a lovely visual, panoramic opening to it – which opens up the story, too. But I do have a couple of crits. “Atop” is a pretty archaic word. We don’t use it much in everyday langauge, but if your book is set in the past, then this might be the tone you want. Second, is ‘a hill’: it’s not specific. If you want to pull your reader right in, sit them down on THAT hill with her, and so at least ‘the hill’ or even name it. Finally, I really like the ‘grey and white’ and the fact that you don’t use a noun there but let the colours be nouns themselves, It speaks to exactly that confused place where they meet and you can’t quite tell where the line is. But dance… hmmm. Could you perhaps come up with a different word? The sky and the sea don’t really dance together. It sounds pretty, but also unreal. Unless, of course, that’s the effect you’re going for.
March 30, 2015 — 12:14 PM
CN_Martin says:
I dig it. Good visual. It shows us the weather is not exactly peaceful, and that Lynn is pensive. It makes me wonder why. Well done.
March 30, 2015 — 12:28 PM
thomaspierson says:
If this is your master plan of getting me to read a novel about love and relationships, you have succeeded. Very nice.
March 31, 2015 — 2:13 PM
Gary Neil Gupton says:
The burlap sack slung across Tomasina’s bare left shoulder rubbed her avocado skin raw as she snapped and plucked from towering stalks the large heirloom ears of corn, brown silks topping each green ear like the silky brown hair of the Mayan children in the village; the bag got heavier until she could no longer heft nor bear it, but dragged it along the sandy row. *Intro sentence for my YA manuscript-in-process, _Tomasina_.
March 30, 2015 — 11:06 AM
J Michael Melican says:
There’s some good elements to this, but it needs to be more than one sentence. Break it at the semi-colon at least and perhaps further still.
March 30, 2015 — 11:10 AM
Noel says:
Nice imagery, but I agree with the other commenter. This sentence wanders so much I started automatically skimming halfway through it.
A period after “raw” would help.
I like the corn–the snapping and plucking, the word “large,” and the word “brown” for the silk do a lot to make me see and feel the corn and its weight. On “heirloom”–if you’re using it to imply that this is the modern world where modern mass agriculture is standard and this corn is unusual in its traditional antecedents, then “heirloom” works. If modern agriculture is not the norm, though, there’s no reason to say “heirloom.”
The aside about the children is weird and meandery, and it’s strange that the POV character thinks of them as “Mayan” when she thinks of them, instead of “the children in the village.” There’s plenty of time to learn they’re Mayan later. It’s especially wandering as a clause in a sentence that started out being about Tomasina, but even if the sentence is only about the corn, it strays too far from the point for me.
The bag got heavier–I like the image of how heavy it got, but there’s a passage-of-time problem. We have an opening image of her plucking some corn, but you haven’t established how *much* corn we’re watching her pick, or that hours or even minutes have passed since she started. “The bag grew heavier” follows after a distracting description of cornsilk, and it might as well mean that the bag is magically increasing in mass on its own. You just haven’t established the amount of labor she’s expending in filling it up.
Also, I’m supposed to be picturing Tomasina as bright green, right? There isn’t some ambiguity of the word avocado here, and she really is green, or at least has green shoulders?
March 30, 2015 — 11:56 AM
deb says:
Noel…I want an editor like you.
March 30, 2015 — 1:07 PM
Noel says:
Thank you! ^__^
March 30, 2015 — 2:18 PM
Gary Neil Gupton says:
Ditto!
April 1, 2015 — 10:08 AM
Gary Neil Gupton says:
Thank you, Noel, for your excellent critique. You are a most thorough and honest editor. I take all of your advice to heart and will proceed with greater care. The comments have been most helpful. In light of all this, a retired librarian read my last manuscript (before Tomasina) and commented, “I liked it,” basically. Your commentary is much more productive and greatly appreciated.
April 1, 2015 — 10:07 AM
Remittance Girl says:
I third the other two crits. A very long sentence can work at the beginning if it’s a stream of consciousness thing, but here I think it takes away from your wonderful details. You want to pin each one of those into the readers mind, and you can do it – with some periods. 😛
March 30, 2015 — 12:17 PM
Gary Neil Gupton says:
Thank you.
April 1, 2015 — 10:10 AM
tdlmaine says:
It gives you a sense of where she is and what she’s doing. If makes me think of ancestors and all the work they had to do to survive. Break it down a little. Shorter verses. When you say avocado, does that mean she has green skin? Maybe her skin is brown like an avocado when it’s been in the air too long?
March 30, 2015 — 1:19 PM
Gary Neil Gupton says:
Thank you. I see now that the reader might see an avocado in different lights. I think I had ‘olive’ skin tone in mind, but thought avocado native to the setting. More description needed, in a separate sentence, of what I have in mind for ‘avocado’ skin tone. Thanks for making me think.
April 1, 2015 — 9:57 AM
glenavailable says:
Wow!
March 30, 2015 — 3:32 PM
glenavailable says:
You had me at ‘avocado skin’..
March 30, 2015 — 3:34 PM
Gary Neil Gupton says:
Thanks. I think I should have stopped there and clarified ‘avocado’. I do like guacamole, but her skin wasn’t that tone either -except when it gets that skim on top. Maybe cafe’ con crema? I appreciate all the writing advice I can get (I was a biology major many moons ago).
April 1, 2015 — 10:15 AM
Matthew Milson says:
At the start of what would come to be known as The Great Marshian War, Everett Ferrier was
eighteen years old—old enough to be drafted.
March 30, 2015 — 11:09 AM
Remittance Girl says:
Oh, I like this. I like the historical, diegetic tone to the first clause. It moves, in a single sentence from a macro, history book view, and tunnels down to your character in a single sentence. And I’m in. What happens to him next?
March 30, 2015 — 12:20 PM
Matt Black says:
^^^ Seconded
March 30, 2015 — 5:58 PM
thomaspierson says:
Thrice agreed, must be truth. 😀
March 31, 2015 — 2:14 PM
Lanny Larcinese says:
WIP novel Dear Dad, Theyre Dead: “Not long ago my biggest complaint was that I didn’t get into Dartmouth,”
March 30, 2015 — 11:14 AM
Remittance Girl says:
I’m not sure how to read this. Is the Title “Dear Dad, They’re Dead”? Because that’s a great title. And does the piece open with dialogue? I think I need a little bit more to crit this.
March 30, 2015 — 12:23 PM
Hannah says:
I feel like this opening sentence isn’t as interesting as it could be. Your title is fabulous, dramatic, explosive but the sentence sort of putters out at the end. I like that it sets the tone but I want more.
March 30, 2015 — 12:56 PM
Sarah Rolph says:
I like it. I’m interested to learn what has changed.
March 30, 2015 — 5:25 PM
Mary says:
This is from a short story of mine….
“I wait under the arc of the sushi parlor five blocks from where I watched that one kid kill himself, and by the time the parlor closes and the neon lights buzz off, I am already digging through their garbage.”
March 30, 2015 — 11:14 AM
gardenlilie says:
This sounds good to me, says a lot with action and sounds and desperation. Definitely not normal. Good.
March 30, 2015 — 11:22 AM
Tsara Shelton says:
I wanna read more. I like this!
March 30, 2015 — 11:37 AM
Noel says:
Really nicely evocative. I can see and feel the mood already, and it’s intriguing. We’re still at some distance from the narrator, but I expect that either changes soon or is used to interesting effect. Very nice.
I’m confused by the word “arc”–are we looking at an archway? A recessed doorway? Some less familiar architectural form? “A luminous electrical discharge between two electrodes or other points,” which is the definition I got when I looked it up?
I’m also a little torn on the number of clauses. The aside about that one kid killing himself gives a lot of character and tone (we have a really hardened narrator), but it makes the sentence wander off for a while, and when my eye scanned over the sentence the first time … I wouldn’t say I was exactly lost, but I was less present because of all the clauses. Especially in a first line when you don’t have any reader momentum at all, that could cost you.
(Also, with the kid killing himself–the first several times I’ve read the sentence, the death sounded like it was clearly months or years ago, and the narrator now uses it as a landmark to understand the city. It’s only now occurring to me that it could conceivably have been tonight. If that’s what’s going on, I don’t think that’s coming across.)
Anyway, looks like a cool story. =)
March 30, 2015 — 11:37 AM
Remittance Girl says:
I agree with the last commenter. It sounds like very cool story. And I’m also confused about the ‘under the arc of the sushi parlor”. Consequently, I can’t picture it and I think you want us to, yes?
March 30, 2015 — 12:25 PM
CN_Martin says:
I like almost all of this, except for the fact that you open up in present tense. It would have worked much better for me if you changed “I wait under the arc…” to “I waited under the arc…” and well..all the other tenses to past tense as well.
That’s just a preference thing though.
March 30, 2015 — 12:33 PM
Sara says:
Evokes lovely desperation.
March 30, 2015 — 12:44 PM
gardenlilie says:
DANIELA TURNED THE volume up in her black Jeep, so she could sing along to her new favorite song.
March 30, 2015 — 11:18 AM
katemcone says:
Hi! This sounds like the beginning of a road trip type story, which I love! 🙂 — I think I’d mention she was in her black jeep first, then turn the volume up on her favorite song — maybe mention the rumble of her sound system. Something like, “After slamming the door of her black Jeep, Daniela recognized her favorite song and pumped up the volume until her speakers rumbled.” Best of luck!
March 30, 2015 — 11:30 AM
Tsara Shelton says:
I like this one! I feel an energy I want to hold onto. It reminds me, too, of a short story I wrote a few years ago. Actually at first I felt like you got her name wrong. tee hee!
March 30, 2015 — 11:39 AM
Remittance Girl says:
I’m going to be very honest about this – this opening doesn’t call to me. Admittedly, I’m a quirky reader and it will probably appeal to a certain reader, but the capitalized Jeep makes me worry I’m in for a story featuring luxury products. Admittedly, this is completely a taste issue. The second thing is … can you name the song? I know there are sometimes legal problems with this, but specifics make stories real and knowing what that favourite new song was would allow you to hint at who your character is in the very first line.
March 30, 2015 — 12:35 PM
Sara says:
I wish I knew what kind of song it is – angry, wild, uplifting, a love song? It would help me have more immediate emotional hook into Daniela.
March 30, 2015 — 12:45 PM
wildbilbo says:
I think this is good, as it kicks right off into the action and works to give it an energy, but I think some of the wording is very passive. Consider using a few more active sounding words, and really bringing Daniela into the action.
“Cranking the volume loud enough to rattle the Jeep’s windows and drown out her singing, Daniela belted out the first few lines of new favourite song.”
Cheers 🙂
JT
March 31, 2015 — 12:21 AM
Noel says:
As Heather lay sleeping, someone reached into her mind and stole a memory.
March 30, 2015 — 11:25 AM
Mark says:
This is an intriguing opener that makes you want to know more – who stole what? I like it.
March 30, 2015 — 11:39 AM
Tsara Shelton says:
Oooohhhhh…. nice!
March 30, 2015 — 11:42 AM
mike Crump says:
Love this.
March 30, 2015 — 11:44 AM
Matt says:
This is a good hook! Nice work noel.
March 30, 2015 — 12:07 PM
Remittance Girl says:
Yeah, I’m in. Great premise. Strong, strong opening.
March 30, 2015 — 12:37 PM
authormilligib says:
Oh, creepy! So creepy! *shudders* But I want need to know what that memory was stolen, and if she ever gets it back. So in a nutshell, excellent!
March 30, 2015 — 12:51 PM
Kyra Dune says:
Very nice. I’m intrigued.
March 30, 2015 — 1:35 PM
Fragrant Liar says:
Very nice. I like the whole mystery of it, and the backloading of the “punchline.” It starts out unassuming, and then BAM! Well done.
March 30, 2015 — 1:38 PM
Fragrant Liar says:
The morning my naive existence was to be inextricably braided with death and depravity, I stared longingly through our six-paned kitchen window at my neighbor, Liam McGill.
March 30, 2015 — 1:58 PM
Fragrant Liar says:
Sorry, cannot get out of the REPLY THREAD Vortex.
March 30, 2015 — 2:10 PM
Noel says:
You posted this one as a reply! People may not find it. =)
March 30, 2015 — 2:17 PM
Fragrant Liar says:
Yes, I know. I cannot escape the Reply Thread Vortex. Chuck! This is a problem!
March 30, 2015 — 2:24 PM
Pimion says:
Wow, really intriguing and powerful.
March 30, 2015 — 2:52 PM
nmdela says:
I love this.
March 30, 2015 — 3:58 PM
mangacat201 says:
I’m sorry if this ends up here more than once, my internet connection is being very rural right now. I just wanted to say that this is lovely, evocative and intriguing which makes me definitely want to know more about the story.
March 30, 2015 — 4:21 PM
Lani says:
I really like this! It instantly grabs my attention. I would definitely read more!
March 30, 2015 — 7:11 PM
katemcone says:
“I was Jane Doe #5.” [First line for a paranormal short I’m working on]
March 30, 2015 — 11:26 AM
mannixk says:
That’s all I need to keep reading!
March 30, 2015 — 11:32 AM
katemcone says:
Yay! Thanks!
March 30, 2015 — 12:05 PM
Noel says:
NICE. Love the questions you’re raising.
March 30, 2015 — 11:58 AM
katemcone says:
Oh, thank you! :3
March 30, 2015 — 12:05 PM
Sara says:
Yup, you’ve got me, lol. Sharp, crisp… great line!
March 30, 2015 — 12:46 PM
katemcone says:
Awesome — I’ve been working on opening lines — I do prefer the short, punchy ones!
March 31, 2015 — 8:02 AM
Alan says:
Love this setup. Sooo many questions. It paints a certain kind of picture, but puzzle-like.
March 30, 2015 — 2:18 PM
katemcone says:
Thank you!
March 30, 2015 — 3:05 PM
ElctrcRngr says:
Very John Varley, one of the kings of the opening sentence. Good shot.
March 30, 2015 — 3:46 PM
katemcone says:
Wow, thank you so much!
March 30, 2015 — 4:18 PM
mangacat201 says:
Very cool, giving us a first person perspective so we instantly connect with the protagonist, but still know absolutely nothing about her!
March 30, 2015 — 4:18 PM
katemcone says:
Thank you! Glad it’s doing its job!
March 30, 2015 — 4:40 PM
Sarah Rolph says:
Excellent!
March 30, 2015 — 5:26 PM
katemcone says:
Gracias! 🙂
March 31, 2015 — 8:02 AM
Leny says:
When it comes to death I haven’t been spared nothing.
March 30, 2015 — 11:27 AM
Remittance Girl says:
Hello Leny. You’ve got a double negative in your opening sentence. This is not a good idea because it makes this very important first line confusing. ‘I haven’t been spared nothing’ means the same thing as ‘I’ve been spared something’. But I think what you mean is that dead has spared you nothing – meaning it’s taken everything away.
Now… this use of the double-negative is quite common in certain English dialects. I’ve heard it used often by people born in some of the Southern States of the US. And perhaps you have a narrator who talks like this and you want to give them that authentic sort of localized voice. That’s fine. But maybe not in that very first sentence, before the reader has had a chance to become familiar with your narrator’s voice.
March 31, 2015 — 12:05 PM
Susan says:
“I became a surrogate mother to give life, not take it away.” Memoir, Labors of Love
March 30, 2015 — 11:31 AM
Remittance Girl says:
It’s very hard to tell with this line what kind of a story I’m getting into. But – and I am guilty of committing the same sin – I feel pushed to a great distance from whoever is speaking. It’s like a proclamation and I’m a listener. It doesn’t invite me into the story.
March 30, 2015 — 12:30 PM
Susan says:
Thanks for the feedback RG… I’ll work on it.
March 30, 2015 — 4:51 PM
cmscholz222 says:
I learned the hard way, that the headshot wasn’t the key to the kill after all.
March 30, 2015 — 11:37 AM
nlhartmannn says:
I’m not sure you need the comma. It kind of stopped me and sent me down another road than the one you probably wanted me to travel. Nevertheless I would definitely read more to see what the key to the kill turns out to be.
March 30, 2015 — 12:10 PM
Noel says:
It’s a good thought, but I feel like there’s a punchier, more visceral way to say this. It’s got a lot of words that are only background (and perhaps cliches) rather than the punch itself (“I learned the hard way,” “after all”–it’s a little bit college application essay… which actually could be a hilarious tone for a story about a hitman, now that I think of it. XD).
It also feels slightly out of order. We’re learning a lesson in a very distant, vague way, and it isn’t until the end of the sentence that we know the wrong assumptions the narrator started with.
I agree about the comma–doesn’t go there.
“Headshot” to me initially reads as “large, professionally-done portrait,” so I thought … okay, maybe if you’re a hitman, you’re given a picture of the target, and this narrator thought that was the important bit in the kill but something was wrong with the portrait … and then, later it occurred to me you might have meant “shot to the head,” which … maybe its called a “headshot” by hitmen, but I’m still honestly not sure which you meant.
March 30, 2015 — 12:31 PM
Remittance Girl says:
I’m in agreement about the comma, or I’d kill the ‘that’. I’m not in any doubt about the ‘headshot’ because of the kill.
March 30, 2015 — 12:40 PM
cmscholz222 says:
Thanks everyone for your critiques. Much appreciated. The comma? Gone. Noel, I’m taking your suggestions to heart and am working on a new opener. Hopefully it’ll be better than the first attempt.
March 30, 2015 — 2:12 PM
cmscholz222 says:
Does this work a bit better?
Our continued survival depends solely upon our ability to adapt; one of the first adjustments we had to make: never rely on a headshot as key to a kill.
March 30, 2015 — 5:54 PM
Noel says:
What about “never rely on a headshot to kill”? Otherwise, nice. (I might play with a period in place of the semicolon and a was in place of the colon, but maybe that’s me?)
March 30, 2015 — 8:38 PM
Mark says:
“And now, ladies and gentlemen, I want you to give a warm welcome to the star act of our Halloween Spectacular, Trick Or Treat!”
March 30, 2015 — 11:38 AM
Remittance Girl says:
I’m having fun trying to figure out the context for this. I’m kind of hoping this turns into a noir story about a burlesque show. You could definitely afford to lose the ‘act’, as it is unnecessary, unless of course it is an MC at a strip club, you might want to amp up the bombast further still.
March 30, 2015 — 12:46 PM
Mark says:
Thanks for your feedback. It’s actually the beginning of one of our 500-word Twisted Flash Fiction stories (really short stories with a surprise twist at the end), called Trick Or Treat, and it’s definitely not a burlesque act – they’re magicians.
March 30, 2015 — 6:25 PM
divynal66 says:
Despite serving as the culmination of everything the Department knew about his suspects, Chustaine’s impressive operation hid a startling reality: the mission thus far had been a complete and utter failure.
March 30, 2015 — 11:44 AM
Allen Morgan says:
I love the implied story behind this line, that despite his best efforts the operation is failing. To me it almost feels like the failure is hidden, something only Chustaine knows. That said, the language feels clunky and gets in the way of the intent of the line, if you were to pare it down, say something akin to “Despite all evidence to the contrary, Chustaine’s impressive operation hid a startling reality-the mission thus far had been a spectacular failure.”
Maybe this doesn’t communicate everything you want to in your first line, this is just an example of how I would cut things down, but the simplification will give your readers a chance to breathe as you move forward. Again, great start.
March 30, 2015 — 12:09 PM
Remittance Girl says:
“Despite serving as the culmination of everything the Department knew about his suspects”
I’ll be honest, I find this first part very cluttered and not really informative. I love the follow on, though. If you take that first clause away, does it work?
March 30, 2015 — 12:49 PM
Dominick D'Aunno says:
“Well, I see the assassin missed.” I raised my crystal champagne flute. “Enjoy the evening.”
March 30, 2015 — 11:47 AM
katemcone says:
I like this 😀 It brings to mind some RPGs I’ve been part of — I immediately like this character, I sense the snark in them. I think the only thing I’d *consider* changing is “assassin missed” to “assassin failed” — I get that they might have been shooting instead of using something like poison, but it makes the assassin seem clumsy. (Of course, if they were not a great assassin, then that’s perfectly fine!)
March 31, 2015 — 8:09 AM
Allen Morgan says:
Pis smelled exactly how his name was pronounced, like piss.
March 30, 2015 — 11:57 AM
katemcone says:
Aw, poor guy.
March 30, 2015 — 12:06 PM
Remittance Girl says:
This needs a little neatening up. Pis smelled exactly like his name. Heheh. Go go go!
March 30, 2015 — 12:51 PM
authormilligib says:
To agree with everyone else, “poor guy!” is accurate, and I want to know why he smells that way! And what his parents were thinking when they named him that!
March 30, 2015 — 12:56 PM
J.C. McKenna says:
Far below the street, in a cavern beneath the grand, arching lobby of the Philadelphia Post Office, the great Mail-Sorting Engine sang its rumbling hymn to commerce and correspondence.
March 30, 2015 — 11:59 AM
Angela says:
I think this is a very strong sentence: an unusual location, a comfortable buzz of normalcy before the disruption, that sets my initial expectations of impending change. My only recommendation is to drop the first four words. If a place is “beneath the grand, arching lobby of…” then is by necessity below ground. It takes a slightly sprawling sentence and trims it just enough to be tighter, stronger, but with out compromising your opening set-up.
March 30, 2015 — 12:33 PM
Sarah Rolph says:
I like it!
March 30, 2015 — 5:28 PM
Fragrant Liar says:
I like this. I think it’s very neat and tidy, and has nice imagery. Not sure I’d change anything.
March 30, 2015 — 6:59 PM
mbawden2014 says:
It was dim, in the cellar. The floor was none too clean and Marisi’s back was damp from the rough concrete wall behind her.
March 30, 2015 — 12:02 PM
Dawn says:
Intriguing. Opens the door to “Ooooo….what is going to happen next?”
Critiques. I avoid the ambiguous “It” and linking verbs, like “was”. How about …The dim cellar reeked of damp filth as Marisi’s clammy back rested on the rough concrete wall behind her.
March 30, 2015 — 2:24 PM
Fragrant Liar says:
Well, I think you can combine these two for a more evocative first liner. Perhaps, if I may, The dim cellar floor was none too clean (or something more descriptive, like: floor felt gritty on my palms), and Marisi’s back felt sore and damp after leaning against the rough concrete wall for [however long].
March 30, 2015 — 7:03 PM
Matt says:
It starts with butts.
March 30, 2015 — 12:03 PM
Matt Black says:
It always does. That’s enough to keep me reading.
March 30, 2015 — 12:16 PM
CC Dowling says:
Bwahahahaha. Ditto.
March 30, 2015 — 12:39 PM
authormilligib says:
I don’t know the context of the line, or what the rest of the story is about, however, I’d be hooked. Hopefully the humor continues on through the rest of the story. 🙂
March 30, 2015 — 12:59 PM
Susan K. Swords says:
This made me smile, and that’s enough to get me hooked. Cigarette butts? Ass-butts? Head butts? I have to keep reading to find out, and I want to.
March 30, 2015 — 2:33 PM
ccdenham says:
Hah! I love it. I would definitely keep reading, regardless of genre.
March 30, 2015 — 2:41 PM
Fragrant Liar says:
I am immediately drawn to this. Maybe that says more about me than your line, but it’s interesting and funny, and that always piques my attention.
March 30, 2015 — 2:51 PM
Remittance Girl says:
There’s a specific pleasure to being denied what you need. (Stone, Memory, Want)
March 30, 2015 — 12:05 PM
CC Dowling says:
I love this. It’s enticing.
March 30, 2015 — 2:07 PM
Susan K. Swords says:
Very intriguing! I like how the sentence is contrary to conventional wisdom. What does (Stone, Memory, Want) refer to? Is that your title?
March 30, 2015 — 2:34 PM
Remittance Girl says:
Yes, that’s the title. It’s a short piece of erotic fiction.
March 31, 2015 — 12:07 PM
Noel says:
Oh, I am immediately fascinated by your speaker–there’s so much character in this. The diction is precise, almost prissy, but with no wasted words, which gives a real sense of the person speaking. It raises so many questions about who could think this way about something they need. Totally intrigued! =D
(Like the other poster, I’m assuming “Stone, Memory, Want” is the title?)
March 30, 2015 — 5:17 PM
Noel says:
Oh heh, like Darci says in the next comment, knowing genre does really affect this one. I think my initial read was “thing that isn’t a sex thing that sounds fascinatingly like a sex thing,” whereas knowing genre I’m leaning towards the interpretation “probably actually a sex thing.”
Which works too. =)
March 30, 2015 — 8:55 PM
Noel says:
Incidentally, just started reading “The Good Shepherd,” and really enjoying it so far. =)
March 30, 2015 — 10:12 PM
Darci Speidel says:
I like this opening, depending on the genre. As it is, I am familiar with your work, and a fan, so I have some assumptions that come to mind. Without those assumptions, I’m not sure I like it as much. Either way, it does pull the reader in to find out what you mean. Sorry – I’m new to this feedback thing, and have trouble expressing myself.
March 30, 2015 — 7:31 PM
nlhartmann says:
I should have known there was something wrong the moment I opened the door.
March 30, 2015 — 12:06 PM
Angela says:
I like this. Short, driven, and – with the right sentences following hard after – promise of a real page turner. Already I anticipate quick pacing with sparing use of adjectives, and impending action threaded with enough details for me to grasp the impact of the situation.
March 30, 2015 — 12:29 PM
CC Dowling says:
Nice. Builds tension right away, and makes me wonder why the narrator didn’t notice.
March 30, 2015 — 12:40 PM
ElctrcRngr says:
This is OK, but perhaps a little time-worn. It could use something to freshen it up, perhaps “I should have known there was something wrong when (blank) the moment I opened the door.”
March 30, 2015 — 3:51 PM
Fragrant Liar says:
I think there needs to be more to the second part of the sentence. “I should have known there was something wrong [when] . . .” is okay, although that could be punched up a bit. But the second half doesn’t really tell you anything. Just on this sentence alone, I’m making some assumptions because there’s so much unsaid, but I think the moment you open the door, you probably DO know what’s wrong, so the SHOULD HAVE KNOWN might be out of place. I think if you stay with SHOULD HAVE KNOWN something was wrong when, you need to show us something that gave you clues or the heebee jeebies before opening the door. Hope that makes sense.
March 30, 2015 — 7:08 PM
Noel says:
It feels vague to me–this could easily be a very generic writing prompt.
My guess is that the details that follow this line are more interesting–this line may even be totally unnecessary. Specific, telling details either showing the wrongness of hints of the wrongness would do a lot more for you.
March 30, 2015 — 9:33 PM
Remittance Girl says:
I’m afraid, as it stands, I agree with a few of the other commenters. It feels a little like obvious tension building. But also, it serves to make the reader immediately away that this is a past event the narrator is recalling in retrospect which takes them out of the immediacy of the text. So instead of being there with the narrator in the moment, the reader is placed later, with the narrator, recounting something in the past and imposing hindsight on it.
I know this may sound silly, since the story is in the past tense anyway, but writing past tense to tell a story is very common, a kind of literary formality. The minute you have a narrator applying hindsight, it changes it to a past that is now safe, and distant. Am I making any sense?
March 31, 2015 — 12:19 PM
Remittance Girl says:
Argh, my typing. away = aware.
March 31, 2015 — 12:21 PM
jackswanzy1022 says:
The Little Devils River flowed out of the Edwards Aquifer north to the James River, joined the Llano, then the Colorado, cold clear water until time and space muddied and warmed it and it merged with the larger body, all the way down to the Gulf of Mexico. In Texas, as most everywhere, water seeks its level, the secret of life. The Chihuahuan Desert menaced the Texas Hill Country like a silent intruder, implacable and irresistible, feeding on the prolonged drought, seeking its former boundaries, reclaiming what once belonged to its empire. In the near-desert, the locals considered The Little Devils a miracle, never to be taken for granted. It inspired the sin of covetousness among ranchers deprived of access. The Little Devils doesn’t make most of the maps. Anonymity preserves its beauty, protects its future.
OK. Ignore everything after the first sentence, but comment on the first paragraph if you can.
March 30, 2015 — 12:08 PM
Remittance Girl says:
I really like it. I like it all. I like the implication of the inevitability you get with the line “water seeks its level”. You’ve made the setting a character. I’m intrigued.
March 31, 2015 — 12:23 PM
livingforweekends says:
YA (dark) fantasy wip:
Though Kaedril had long wrapped Her night’s cloak ‘round the only souls on this part of
the Rueth, the snarls and howls of the creatures pacing the canalship kept Aneli awake.
March 30, 2015 — 12:11 PM
jackswanzy1022 says:
Nothing casual or smooth going on here. Good!
March 30, 2015 — 12:56 PM
Kyra Dune says:
This is hitting me with a long of unfamiliar concepts all at once. I read fantasy, so I get how you’re trying to set a mood and maybe the following sentences would put this in better context, but based off this one sentence I’m not pulled in. I’m only confused.
March 30, 2015 — 1:42 PM
Kyra Dune says:
I meant a lot of unfamiliar concepts, not long. Stupid auto correct.
March 30, 2015 — 2:06 PM
mike Crump says:
First sentence and I feel like I’m working hard.
March 30, 2015 — 2:11 PM
livingforweekends says:
It is funny how simply plunking it here away from everything else makes me see it so differently! Will work on it!
March 30, 2015 — 3:18 PM
livingforweekends says:
I got your meaning (though you didn’t get mine, lol). Seeing it here makes me reconsider, definitely.
March 30, 2015 — 3:18 PM
Angela says:
Fantasy with horror elements:
“Welsan was out of souls to sell.”
March 30, 2015 — 12:17 PM
katemcone says:
Short and to the point, while managing to set up genre and character. I love it! Would definitely want to read the rest.
March 31, 2015 — 8:11 AM
Remittance Girl says:
It’s very short and tight. I am debating if ‘had run out of souls to sell’ might be wordier but a little clearer. Honestly, I’m not sure. It’s powerful as it it, but I did stall a little on it.
March 31, 2015 — 12:27 PM
mildred achoch says:
Very nice! You did not even have to say what genre it was. The sentence tells us that this will be an otherworldly tale. Short but grabs the readers and makes them want to find out about this character. Why is he selling souls? How does one go about selling souls? Is it really possible to run out of souls to sell? Who would want to buy souls? For what purpose? Intriguing sentence! I would love to read the rest of the story!
March 31, 2015 — 1:19 PM
CN_Martin says:
Between a punch in the face or a kick to the mid-section, I’d have gone with the punch. Ten years and fifty pounds ago my choice would’ve been different. That was before the beer belly, before I’d gone soft in the middle. I could’ve taken a kick back then. I’d have been more concerned with losing a tooth out of my pretty face than a cracked rib. A moot point I suppose, as the choice wasn’t mine. I was gifted both. It was a fitting final jab at a life lived poorly.
March 30, 2015 — 12:26 PM
Writella says:
YA Fantasy:
The girl stands in the rain, hair caked to her scalp and cheeks, and water running over her like she’s geology.
March 30, 2015 — 12:30 PM
CC Dowling says:
Structurally, this reads a bit weird for me. The girl should be named, or at least described, so I have something as a reader to latch on to, to care about. Water running over her like she’s geology? I have no idea what that means, or what aspects about “the girl” are like geology. I know you’re trying to be clever with a play on words. It doesn’t work here, for me.
March 30, 2015 — 12:42 PM
jen says:
I… don’t think you mean ‘geology’ there? I’m guessing you mean she was like a rock, and geology is the study of rocks, so ‘geological’ could be made to fit (even if that doesn’t quite flow as well)?
it’s a nice image though, kind of creepy and Ringu-like 🙂
March 30, 2015 — 12:44 PM
Alex Washoe says:
I really like this image. Something about the middle phrase “hair caked to her scalp and cheeks” feels a little awkward — I stumble over it when I read it. I wonder if you could condense it or even it it’s needed. But the image and the ending “like she’s geology” is great.
March 30, 2015 — 12:44 PM
Remittance Girl says:
Lovely visual opening. I have a couple of crits. ‘Caked’ isn’t sitting right with me. It just doesn’t feel like the right verb and I can’t tell you why. Texture perhaps? I also like the image of her as rock, immobile, being eroded by the rain, but I agree with Jen on Geology.
March 30, 2015 — 12:55 PM
jen says:
The usual description would be ‘plastered’ for wet hair, not ‘caked’ – normally you’d say ‘caked’ for something like sand or dried mud? If you’re wanting to evoke wet stuff moulded to the shape of something, use plastered.
Although both cake and plaster have wet and dry states, so I have no clue why this is the way it is. 🙂
March 30, 2015 — 1:39 PM
Writella says:
More useful, and generous feedback than I have given myself – thanks everyone.
March 30, 2015 — 3:45 PM
nmdela says:
I like geology. It’s weird in its hyperbole. Maybe not “she’s” Maybe just “running over her like geology.” Makes me feels the oppressiveness and erosion of the water. I agree with the cake critique. It needs a stickier word.
March 30, 2015 — 4:08 PM
jen says:
Oh that’s it, “like geology” actually works really well! it’s describing an exploration of something rather than describing her, and geology flows so much better at the end of that sentence.
This is making me want go back and reread Threshold by Caitlin Keirnan… she’s a paleontologist who writes very weird dark fantasy that has this kind of feel to it.
March 30, 2015 — 4:37 PM
Writella says:
Thank you – I’d like to keep ‘geology’ if I can, a bit of weird isn’t too bad, but I see now that ‘caked’ is just not interesting enough to be worth the upset it causes to the sentence.
The narrative POV is that of an American teenager (third person, present tense), so ‘geology’ is more his word than mine. Does that make a difference?
March 30, 2015 — 4:37 PM
Remittance Girl says:
Nmdela… You are right. Even though it doesn’t ‘geology’ isn’t clear and feels a little odd, it’s haunting, isn’t it?
March 31, 2015 — 12:30 PM
Aaron Cornwell says:
It was three weeks before they found him, by that time I was halfway across the world.
March 30, 2015 — 12:34 PM
Alex Washoe says:
This works. I’d keep reading.
March 30, 2015 — 12:42 PM
Remittance Girl says:
Yes, I agree with Alex. It does work. I’m intrigued. I wish semi-colons weren’t so disdained. This cries out for one instead of the comma. I’m thinking it could be two sentences.
March 30, 2015 — 12:57 PM
jen says:
Actually, you’re absolutely right; a semi-colon would be the neatest way to break that sentence up without creating too much of a separation between the two parts. If the break feels like it needs a pause the length of a semi-colon, then it’s the right use.
Disdain is a fairly daft reason not to use perfectly nice grammar 😉 Also, semi-colons are awesome; I shall continue to overuse them with glee.
March 30, 2015 — 1:09 PM
Sergio Caballero says:
Hear hear. Has a nice pull to it. I too would keep reading. Well done.
March 30, 2015 — 1:12 PM
Susan K. Swords says:
I really like this. My one suggestion would be to insert the word “and”: “It was three weeks before they found him, and by that time I was halfway across the world
March 30, 2015 — 2:35 PM
ccdenham says:
I’d continue. But I think your comma needs to either be a semi-colon or a period.
March 30, 2015 — 2:47 PM
Sara says:
Gothic fantasy –
The breeze off the sea riffled through the bone orchard, playing softly in the ghastly white fruits, making the solid ones clatter while the long bones chimed and fluted.
March 30, 2015 — 12:36 PM
CC Dowling says:
NA Paranormal Fant:
There’s something inherently menacing about glass.
March 30, 2015 — 12:38 PM
Alex Washoe says:
Mystery novel:
White grapefruit juice is grossly under-appreciated.
March 30, 2015 — 12:42 PM
Remittance Girl says:
Hmmmm. I just don’t know. Grossly seems a poor word choice for a statement that, I perceive is trying to convince me that white grapefruit juice is better than I think it is. 😛 You could lose it. Unless, of course, you are about to tell us that it tastes foul but is great for breaking down a corpse. 😛
March 30, 2015 — 1:00 PM
mike Crump says:
I agree with Remittance girl. Grossly is probably not the bon mot but it isn’t needed at all.
March 30, 2015 — 2:33 PM
lisacle says:
This made me giggle. I’m intrigued, especially since my worst hangover ever came from drinking way too many Greyhounds. I like the contrast between “grossly,” which implies something negative, and “under-appreciated,” which implies something positive. I also like that you specified that it is white grapefruit juice. It is a small detail which makes me want to find out why it is the white juice specifically and not the pink juice or just any old juice.
Well done!
March 30, 2015 — 1:02 PM
Matt Black says:
I’m with lisacle. I think “grossly” was a great choice.
March 30, 2015 — 6:00 PM
lisacle says:
This is from a Steampunk-ish short story that’s been collecting rejections for awhile now. I know the first sentence is awkward. Be gentle. 😎
“Dr. Doonahan sighed in exasperation, wiped the sweat from behind his goggles, and stepped back from his workbench.”
March 30, 2015 — 12:52 PM
Remittance Girl says:
I like it. I like the good doctor. Honestly, I’d just get rid of the ‘in exasperation’. It’s already there in the motions.
March 30, 2015 — 1:02 PM
Alex Washoe says:
I agree with the other comment: “in exasperation” is awkward, but the rest of it is really intriguing. I think it would hook my interest.
March 30, 2015 — 2:53 PM
Fragrant Liar says:
I’m not sure exasperation is awkward. There are all sorts of sighs. I do think the sentence can be fleshed out with some stronger details, perhaps from the point of stepped back: and shoved away from the [something something/fine shavings of skull carvings] on his [rickety] workbench (something something/where he’d been laboring until his fingers felt raw]. You get the idea. Stop before it gets clunky, but I do think we can see and feel this better with more sensory description.
March 30, 2015 — 7:23 PM
Hannah says:
Genre: Lit. Title: Aristocrats in Exile. “I suppose I’ve always been mad.”
March 30, 2015 — 12:58 PM
Remittance Girl says:
This reminds me a little of the opening to the Tell-tale Heart. I can’t honestly say it’s a great opening line, but literary novels don’t seem to need them. It’s certainly not a bad one at all.
March 30, 2015 — 1:04 PM
Hannah says:
Is there a way to improve it? I can’t really think of a way to phrase it differently or alter it altogether without completely changing the meaning and the lead into the story.
March 30, 2015 — 1:12 PM
ElctrcRngr says:
“Mad”, like insane, or mad, like angry? If the latter, angry might be better. And personally, I’d drop the “I suppose”, although I realize it might be needed to convey contemplation or indecision
March 30, 2015 — 3:57 PM
Hannah says:
Like insane. Yeah, I feel like I sort of need it to, as you said, convey contemplation and indecision.
March 30, 2015 — 11:39 PM
Remittance Girl says:
Yes, I like insane. It’s stronger and bolder. Yes!!! And I can see that it’s like an opening monologue and may need the self-reflective ‘I suppose’ to give a sense of that.
March 31, 2015 — 12:35 PM
Silk Questo says:
Mickey Frost sweated through his shirt within five minutes of sitting down at the metal table. It was screwed to the floor, a hard, blank surface: no notebooks, no recorder, not even a pencil. (mystery/suspense)
March 30, 2015 — 12:58 PM
Remittance Girl says:
I really do like the second sentence and I think it should be your first. Then you can reverse the order of the first sentence and wow. “It was screwed to the floor, a hard, bank, metal surface: no notebooks, no recorder, not even a pencil. Within five minutes of sitting down at the table, Mickey Frost had sweated through his shirt.
Mmmm. Visceral.
March 30, 2015 — 1:08 PM
Malena Fuentes says:
I agree.
March 30, 2015 — 1:48 PM
Sergio Caballero says:
Screenplay title: Bring the Beats (Golden Fleece, music, dramedy.)
The diamond stylus of a magnetic cartridge tracks along spiral-grooved darkness devoid of dust and grit, picking-up infinitesimal impressions of the sound wave pattern we’re listening to – no hiss, no pops .
March 30, 2015 — 1:08 PM
Hannah says:
I really enjoy the diction/tone of this sentence. However – and this may be singular to me because, truthfully, I had to look up what a magnetic cartridge is – I couldn’t quite grasp the image through the abstract nature of the words you used. But again, I might be the only one to have difficulty with this.
March 30, 2015 — 1:36 PM
Remittance Girl says:
Like Hannah, you have taken me into the specifics of a techne I know nothing about. I’m guessing you’re going to take us further down the rabbit hole… I’m intrigued.
March 31, 2015 — 12:37 PM
tdlmaine says:
This is the beginning of Book Two, Dying in DC. Political Thriller.
“This is 911, how may I help you?” the dispatcher said.
“I just saw a man get out of his car and he pulled out a gun—held it to his side. It was at The Black Sow,” the panicked voice said.
March 30, 2015 — 1:12 PM
mike Crump says:
A 911 call is a good idea. But the calling person has a lot of detail for someone who is panicked.
March 30, 2015 — 2:31 PM
CC Dowling says:
I’m not buying it. The dialogue of the panicked voice should make me feel panicked as well. Right now, they sound really well put together and not panicked at all.
March 30, 2015 — 2:56 PM
Remittance Girl says:
I’m with both the other commenters. Show the panic as fractured dialogue, and then you can leave out the adjective in the speech tag.
March 31, 2015 — 12:40 PM
Mir says:
Working title The Unspoken Treaty, political fantasy:
Gheleli shifted her weight to her other foot and her satchel to her other shoulder, giving herself time to think.
March 30, 2015 — 1:13 PM
nmdela says:
I like this.
March 30, 2015 — 3:42 PM
Fragrant Liar says:
This is pretty good. It’s simple and to the point, and leads you into what comes next. What does she need to think about? I like that it’s weighted at the end where the real message is, which is that she has a problem. Not sure I’d change anything unless you want more oomph.
March 30, 2015 — 7:26 PM
Mir says:
Related to but not part of the challenge:
It is ASTOUNDING how much difference “first line” as a single sentence makes from “first paragraph” or “first line of text.”
March 30, 2015 — 1:22 PM
Hannah says:
So true! I think it’s so much harder to get a good grasp on the context but it’s an interesting exercise to try to decipher the tone from the first sentence.
March 30, 2015 — 1:32 PM
Remittance Girl says:
It sure is! I guess if you are going for a first sentence that grabs the reader by the throat, it really kicks when you get it right. For some of the lines, I realize I’m making assumptions (probably wrong ones) just to be able to give any feedback at all.
March 31, 2015 — 12:42 PM
Jenni Cornell says:
The 2015 Kia Soul has a brake pedal like a hair-trigger; when Maggie’s car topped a rise in the pavement, she saw what stood in the middle of the road and her foot jack-hammered the brake pedal.
or should it be
The 2015 Kia Soul has a brake pedal like a hair trigger.
March 30, 2015 — 1:23 PM
Mir says:
I’d absolutely go with the shorter sentence. The semicolon feels a little awkward; the period gives a reader a longer moment of pause, raising the question “okay, where are we going with this”. I don’t know if this’ll be a consistent response, but it also gives it an edge of comedic timing–I can easily imagine a stand-up comedian starting his set with that flat sentence, giving the audience time to imagine the scenarios in which this would be relevant.
Incidentally, if you can get through the second sentence without reusing the phrase “brake pedal,” it’ll flow better.
March 30, 2015 — 1:29 PM
Jenni C says:
Thank you! First cozy mystery. I appreciate the feedback.
April 5, 2015 — 12:10 AM
ElctrcRngr says:
It feels like you have a tense conflict going on here. Maybe ‘The brake pedal of Maggie’s Kia Soul was like a hair-trigger.’ Is the 2015 essential?
March 31, 2015 — 1:01 AM
Jenni C says:
Thank you for your feedback. I have a 2015 and it had some redesign. Wasn’t sure if earlier years would have the same feel. so I didn’t want to be called on it. Actual reviews mentioned the touchy brakes. Not essential. Just trying to be accurate. By the way, there is a giant pink pig in the road.
April 5, 2015 — 12:15 AM
ktbenbrook (@baronger) says:
He was a dark knight, with a stormy disposition, and he rode his horse at a thunderous gallop his lance aimed at my heart.
Why not go with a riff on a classic.
March 30, 2015 — 1:26 PM
Malena Fuentes says:
¬Pedro followed his brother’s footprints, trying to avoid sinking into the mud. (YA)
March 30, 2015 — 1:45 PM
Remittance Girl says:
I really like this one, especially for the genre. The fraternal relationship that’s implied in the first sentence. I would, however, suggest you get rid of the word ‘trying’. It’s implied that he’s going to be trying by the rest of the sentence, and ‘trying to avoid sinking’ – two continuous verbs – feels wordy and takes the wind out of the sails, for me.
March 31, 2015 — 12:51 PM
Malena Fuentes says:
Thanks (first text in English, difficult to find my voice).
March 31, 2015 — 2:08 PM
Christine Kling says:
An adventure thriller:
“Riley held her diamond engagement ring over the boat’s creamy bow wave and considered letting go.”
March 30, 2015 — 1:59 PM
Remittance Girl says:
Usually, I love specifics and description, but here is one of those rare times when I think it detracts from the power that this first sentence poses. “the boat’s creamy bow wave” is distracting me from the question… is this woman going to toss her engagement ring? I think “over the boat’s bow”, or “the boat’s side” feels stronger, and keeps the implied question of why in the forefront of the reader’s mind.
March 31, 2015 — 12:48 PM
Kyra Dune says:
This is from my epic fantasy WIP
Nefara tripped over the chains binding her ankles and fell to the hard packed earth.
March 30, 2015 — 2:02 PM
Sarah Rolph says:
Nice and strong! I like that something happens right away, and I want to know more.
For me there was a problem here, though. Can you trip over something if your ankles are bound? I guess I am literal-minded….
If it were my sentence, I think I might try:
Chains binding her ankles, Nefara fell to the hard packed earth.
March 30, 2015 — 5:41 PM
Fragrant Liar says:
I might just add a little more detail to how she fell or what she hit when she fell, what it felt like, that sort of thing. What did she land on? Did it hurt?
March 30, 2015 — 7:28 PM
Remittance Girl says:
As an opening line, I think this is very strong. The verb ‘binding’ puts me off a little, I think I’d prefer just ‘around her ankles’. But yes, it’s nice and strong. I’m also with fragrant liar – I think the specifics of how she falls – to her knees, scraping her chin, something, would give it a bit more immediacy.
March 31, 2015 — 12:55 PM
Fragrant Liar says:
The morning my naive existence was to be inextricably braided with death and depravity, I stared longingly through our six-paned kitchen window at my neighbor, Liam McGill.
Genre: Paranormal
March 30, 2015 — 2:08 PM
sarahharringtonbooks says:
I think this might be a bit wordy. I had to read it a few times in order to fully grasp it and it didn’t quite hook me. Perhaps a little too much detail in the opening line (ex. six-paned kitchen window)
March 30, 2015 — 3:43 PM
Fragrant Liar says:
Thank you, you’re right. And I also need to work on backloading it. Thank you.
March 31, 2015 — 9:35 PM
Alan says:
Light sci-fi/fantasy/hyper-realism, working title ‘Lightheart’…
“So you see, gentlemen,” concluded Dovey. “‘Bookboxes’ aren’t the future of literature… they’re the future of you.”
March 30, 2015 — 2:12 PM
Rosie says:
Works for me! I would totally ready this!
March 30, 2015 — 2:37 PM
Rosie says:
*read even
March 30, 2015 — 2:38 PM
Dawn says:
Here you go…
8:00 a.m. – Intent on his destination, the man walked down the hospital corridor straightening his dark blue tie and tugging the cuffs of the crisp white button-down shirt, positioning them to show just a bit from under his professionally tailored pin-stripe suit jacket.
March 30, 2015 — 2:15 PM
James says:
For her sixteenth birthday, all Nyah wanted was a ride to the recruiter.
(SF, YA[?], WIP)
March 30, 2015 — 2:18 PM
ElctrcRngr says:
This is a wonderfully informative opening line, and sets mood as well. As to genre, it’s impossible to say with just an opening sentence. This would work for many genres.
March 31, 2015 — 1:03 AM
Remittance Girl says:
I’m in. Absolutely.
March 31, 2015 — 12:57 PM
Rosie says:
Logan was making a cappuccino the day the colour was turned off.
(WIP, Fantasy YA)
March 30, 2015 — 2:36 PM
Remittance Girl says:
I really like the premise of this. Very intriguing. My only worry is for the passive ‘the day the colour was turned off’. I know this is a hard one to fix without giving too much away: ‘the day they turned the colour off’? The day the world went monochrome? Not sure.
March 31, 2015 — 1:00 PM
ccdenham says:
On November 28th, 2047, the world ended.
(Paranormal eventual-romance, time travel)
March 30, 2015 — 2:42 PM
Fragrant Liar says:
And that’s a dramatic statement right there. I don’t think it needs anything else because of the import of the statement. In this case, less is more.
March 30, 2015 — 7:30 PM
nmdela says:
He’s fucking married. Married. Are you kidding me with this shit?
March 30, 2015 — 3:04 PM
katemcone says:
Uh-oh. I seem to smell a revenge story! I like it.
March 30, 2015 — 3:06 PM
ccdenham says:
Love it! I’m not sure, but I would almost want the “fucking” to be on the second “married,” though. Maybe. Just the natural escalation of though and reaction, y’know?
March 30, 2015 — 3:44 PM
ceswiedler says:
Middle-grade sci-fi:
Michael Prasad went from Having a Father to Not Having a Father in the space of a single conversation. And really, it wasn’t even that much of a conversation.
March 30, 2015 — 3:22 PM
katemcone says:
I would love to read this — I like that you’ve Capitalized The Important Events, the dark humor (“…it wasn’t even that much of a conversation”) and I think it definitely fits the middle-grade sci-fi feel you’re shooting for. Great work! (Have you read any of Andrew Clements’s books, such as Frindle?)
March 31, 2015 — 8:05 AM
Remittance Girl says:
Yes, I agree with Katemcone. I really like it. Everything about it.
March 31, 2015 — 1:01 PM
ElctrcRngr says:
I love the rhythm of this sentence. And its tone, and what Kate said about the use of caps in your structure. Very nice.
April 2, 2015 — 11:47 AM